


i think you're a jewel, i think you're a ruby

by smallredboy



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Canon Era, Class Differences, F/F, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Pre-Reynolds Pamphlet, Sharing a Bed, vague sugar momma elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-20 21:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16563344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallredboy/pseuds/smallredboy
Summary: During her divorce from James, Maria meets Theodosia and Aaron Burr.





	i think you're a jewel, i think you're a ruby

**Author's Note:**

> for femslashficlets on dreamwidth, filled their weekly prompt, this time 'jewel'.
> 
> this ship i came up on the spot and i like. Really Like It.
> 
> enjoy!

When Maria turns to Aaron Burr for help, she meets his wife.

There are long silences as they discuss her marriage to James, her eight-year-old daughter sat on her lap. The Burrs’ child is older, also a girl — she’s twelve, she can speak French she can’t even wrap her head around. Susan and her talk, and Little Theo holds her up and laughs and teaches her the numbers in French, all bright laughs and warm smiles.

Theodosia is kind — kinder than the rest of the world. Burr nods and lets them be alone, a moment between women, silent and appreciated. Theodosia reaches her hand out; Maria looks at her for a few seconds before holding it tight, tighter than ever.

They have more than enough rooms to house her, but she insists she needs someone to sleep with. Burr offers, but she shakes her head. Theodosia smiles and lets her walk into one of the guest rooms.

She looks through the cabinets as Maria disrobes herself and crawls into bed, ignoring the sharp angles of her hips, the way her stomach contrasts with Theodosia’s. She is taller than her husband, Maria notices— fuller, too, at the hips and at the stomach. She carries herself with a grace and a dignity she’s never allowed herself, even when she’s only in a nightgown, only in her barest state.

The moonlight threads in, careful, and shines off Theodosia. Dark cheeks with warmth underneath them seem to glow as the moon showers them with light. Theodosia crawls into bed with her, pulls the sheets above them, and notices how fragile Maria looks.

“You are stunning,” Theodosia tells her. “But I believe you need to eat more.”  
  
Maria tries to show gratefulness — and she’s never been good at showing gratefulness. She pulls Theodosia closer, rests her forehead against hers. Theodosia’s hands are so very warm, her eyes pulling her in, closer and closer.

“Thank you.”

Theodosia kisses her, quick and simple, and it’s over as soon as it starts.

The next morning, Theodosia makes breakfast, more food than what Maria sees in a whole day. She eats it all, and there’s a grin on Theodosia’s lips when she gives her back her plate.

Burr helps her through her divorce, and when she’s not legally bound to James anymore her and Susan cry. Maria envelops her daughter, cries into her girl’s curls, holds onto her like a lifeline, so thankful for everything to be over. The bruises fade, and Theodosia kisses them again and again when she notices them.

Maria lives with the Burrs for a bit more. Susan and Little Theo become good friends, and Susan knows the numbers in French like the back of her hand. Burr calls her a friend and urges her to let him teach Susan more.

“I’d like to know more than my daughter, Burr,” she replies, smiling, letting him nonetheless.

Theodosia hands her money, whenever she needs it. She says she needs a new dress and she doesn’t doubt to get her a fitter; she says she wants to start reading and she shows her all the books she and her husband have.

Once, Theodosia is enveloping her with her arms, moonlight threading into the room like always. She pulls away for a second, runs her hand around her neck, to the back of it. There’s a sound and a necklace falls to the mattress. She holds it up for Maria to see.

“I want you to keep this,” Theodosia tells her.

Maria notices the aging around her; the way she’s more tired, the way her eyes exhume exhaustion. She’s older, soft and kind and nothing like James at all. James is older, older than her— and Theodosia is older, older than her. But she never says any snide comment about her being naive, about her being just a girl. She holds her, sings praises to her name as she holds her in the afterglow.

Maria takes the necklace in her hands. There’s a jewel engraved on it, put in the shape of a heart.

“Family inheritance?” Maria asks, voice hoarse with unshed tears. Sometimes people with money get necklaces with jewels for their birthdays, she believes.

“Yes,” Theodosia nods, kisses her. “But I want you to keep it. It reminds me of you.”

Maria swallows thickly, tries to find words. A few tears slide down her cheeks; Theodosia kisses them away.

“How?” she manages to say.

“You’re precious. You’re incredible— you’re a jewel. And you deserve one, and many more.”  
  
Maria wears it around her neck, and if Burr notices during breakfast the next day, he doesn’t ask, and she smiles widely the whole day.


End file.
